Pun idea for you that i saw recently when searching up fish puns
Garlic bread? So you're saying a gar licked this bread?
-The Eyenon
AYO??? puns AND GARLIC BREAD ??!
sign me UP.
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Hi Kit! I hope you're doing well! I have been going back through all of your fics, and I just had to come tell you how much I love your writing style! You're my favorite obikin fic writer, and I'm obsessed with so many of your fics (I love so many I can't even choose a favorite).
I saw that you have chapter 2 of "If you love me, let it remain unnamed" in progress, and I can't tell you how excited I am for it! Could you maybe give us a little sneak peek of what's gonna happen?? 👀🤲 if Obi-Wan thought dealing with one Anakin was bad enough, I bet he is gonna get into so much (sexy?) trouble with 2 of them. 💜💜
hey!! i can't give much because im hoping to have this posted sunday evening (all...11k of it so far oops) but here is some of anakin and set's first interaction (keeping in mind that half the reason the chapter is so long is because this first impression is so bad that anakin needs to be coaxed into liking set):
The man’s smirk is cool as it stretches across his face. “Don’t you want to know my name, little Jedi?”
“No,” Anakin says. Shortly. “It doesn’t matter.”
Because whoever this man is will be dead within the hour—for the crime of hurting his master, holding him, bruising him. For putting his lips against his skin.
No, Anakin does not need to know this stranger’s name, because he will not mourn his death. He will cause it.
“Ah, but I am the one with the high ground,” the man tuts, tapping the blaster lightly against Obi-Wan’s skin. "Metaphorically, at least."
Anakin could use the Force to yank the blaster away, but—the man’s finger is too close to the trigger of the blaster, and Anakin’s fury is making his Force blunt when it needs to be precise to stop the man from squeezing the trigger should he feel the blaster being ripped from his hand.
He needs to focus. He needs to be precise, less angry, but he cannot let go of his anger when he can see flakes of his master’s blood decorating his temple. His master is bleeding.
“Don’t you agree, little Jedi?” the man asks, and Anakin snaps back into focus.
“No,” he says automatically, and the man laughs. It is not a kind sound.
“You don’t agree that what I believe goes?” the man asks. “I was under the impression your partner’s life meant more to you than that.
Obi-Wan’s life means everything to him. Anakin curls his mouth into a wordless snarl.
“What do you want.” He bites out.
“Your name, to begin with,” the stranger purrs back, smirk still firmly in place. There is a scar, cutting through one of his thick eyebrows. It makes him look monstrous.
Anakin inhales sharply and throws out the first name he can think of, the false name he’d almost wed under on Naboo before he came to his senses and realized he could never love another the way he already loved his master. “Set.”
The man’s eyebrows fly up. “Fascinating,” he murmurs. “Absolutely fascinating.”
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the older i get and the closer i am to reaching 30, the more the people around me try to deny me my age. it’s a constant ‘oh you’re just turning 29 again teehee 🤭’ or ‘dont tell your SO that, he’ll leave you for a younger model 😉’ and i just???? hate it?????????
i spent my entire teenaged years fighting for my life. i crawled through the deepest pits of my depression to cling to the promise of a life beyond that pain. i was so convinced that i was going to die young, that i would never see the grace of my age starting with a 2, let alone 3.
so im going to turn 30, and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me from loving it.
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My work boots are the most expensive shoes I’ve ever owned.
Also the most comfortable. I chose them after trying on several different brands and comparing lifespan vs usage vs comfort - I needed them for a physically demanding job, not the weekend hiking trails. I could have easily chosen cheaper boots that would have lasted long enough to be worth their low price, but I know the Sam Vimes Boot Theory and knew weaker, less comfortable boots would make my life harder in the long run.
So when the outside edge of the heel started wearing down after three years of heavy use I went to the shop I got them from and said “hey this is a common problem for me with how I walk but now it’s affecting my ankles and knees and I don’t wanna have to buy a new pair, is there a way to fix this?”
The salesman at this very fancy upscale boot store said “oh yeah, there’s a shoe repair place that can give you some heel guards - it’ll keep the rubber from wearing out.”
So at 8am this morning right after my 9hr shift ends I went to the shoe repair shop and it is the most hole-in-the-wall, is-this-a-real-business-or-a-mafia-front, am-I-gonna-get-shot tiny cinder block cube I’ve ever seen in my life. I grew up plenty poor and love me a good hole-in-the-wall business, but going from upscale store to this cash-only repair shop gave me whiplash. Wasn’t expecting this when a guy who wears three piece suits to sell boots said it’s the best place to go.
The skinny kid behind the counter looks somehow 16 and 25 at the same time, but when I tell him this place was recommended he smiles and says to hand over my boots. I hand him the vaguely warm foot-smelling boots, and stand in my socks in the 3’ square entryway surrounded by every color leather polish you could buy and watch as he turns my boots around in his hands, sizes up a crescent moon bits of plastic, and unceremoniously hammers tiny nails through them before handing them back.
The heels are perfectly level again. I can walk without almost rolling my ankles. They don’t clack loudly on the pavement or feel different. This is gonna fix my knee pain. It cost $10.
This kid had every tool he needed within arms reach, worked fast and smoothly, I was in and out the door in less than 8 minutes, and it only cost $10.
I didn’t think anything could cost only $10 anymore. I’m so used to hyperinflation prices I was spiritually thrown back to the 1400’s visiting the cobbler in town square. This kid might have been that cobbler and just decided to never die.
I’m still reeling from the whiplash, and gobsmacked at the price, and thrilled I didn’t have to go buy new, worse work boots (cuz I don’t have that kind of money for a second pair, I’m expecting these ones to last a decade) and it feels like I just experienced one of the rare little chunks of magic that floats around our world.
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